By: Vague
After an unseasonal snow fall and arctic temperatures, I am now enjoying the usual West Highland weather; heavy, constant rain. This got me thinking about what is needed to survive out here, so I thought I’d write something for you to peruse, detailing the three and the four.
I have a feeling I may already have talked about the rule of three in Vague Preoccupations. Basically the average human can go three minutes without oxygen, three days without water, three weeks without food and three months without other human company, before their health is seriously damaged.
Obviously I have plenty of good, clean air; a combination of the cool winds from the mountain and the warmer ones from the sea mean I am unlikely to ever breathe fresher air. Of course there are times where the fire smokes and my oxygen is depleted, but this will never reach danger levels.
The second point; water, brings me to the second part of the title. The four essentials are water, food, shelter and fire, and I will detail each in the following paragraphs.
Water. As mentioned above, there is never a lack of fresh rainfall up here even when it doesn’t rain for days (I had a period of nearly ten days without rain a couple of weeks ago, most unusual), the mountains, and their attendant covering of sphagnum moss and peat, hold and release water like a sponge.
I have already spoken about the little burn where I fill my water bags, this is never going to run dry. True, during those days when it didn’t rain, the level dropped considerably, but I was able to move some stones and refill even then. I go through about four litres (on average) of water a day. This is for drinking, cooking and washing (myself as well as my pans and pots). This means a trip to the burn every other day, sometimes every third day if it has been raining as I can then use my tarp to collect water too.
I couple the climb down the hill with other activities, such as collecting driftwood, berries, fungi or fire making material such as birch bark. It is also the time I can either put out my creels in hope of catching crabs, prawns, fish or even lobster, go fishing or gather mussels, limpets and winkles.
I do carry chlorine and neutralising tablets, but I rarely use them now I have a fixed camp – the fire is always available, so I prefer to keep a billy can of water above it at all times. That way whenever I need a drink, or wash, I can simply use the boiled water in the can.
There are other places nearby I have collected water – seeps and trickles will quickly fill a mug if I am running low and I have also dug and lined what is called an Indian well – this can provide several mug fulls every day. (An Indian well, for those who are curious, is a patch of sodden ground [plenty of them around here], you then dig a depression, about a foot deep and line the sides with rushes, grass and moss. Wait for the well to fill, bail out the water, which for the first time or two will be murky and full of debris, after a couple of emptyings, the water will be clear and maintain a constant supply of water.)
Even on days like today, where the rain is heavy and ceaseless, I do not begrudge it; it makes life that bit easier and helps satisfy the first of the four essentials.
The second essential, food, is also something I have talked about in this blog. I love cooking and usually find myself preparing and eating some pretty tasty dishes when I am out in the wilds. It is an odd thing; in ‘civilisation’ I do not cook as much or as creatively as when I am put in front of an open fire, with limited supplies and a gale roaring around me. I carry basic foodstuffs, eschewing the basic boil-in-a-bag meals many campers eat for things like pasta, rice, potato and other heavy staples. It is always surprising how, with a few choice extras, and a supply of wild, fresh food, a really satisfying meal can be cooked with little trouble at all.
Take last night for example. I had collected some caps (penny bun is another name for this fungus, its Latin name is Boletus) and also found a patch of velvet shank (or velvet foot, Flammulina velutipes [lovely sounding Latin, this one]); a fungus I have never eaten before but was most excited to try. I heated some butter in my frying pan, added half an onion then half an apple and the sliced fungus. Once this had cooked for a little while I added some salami, honey, salt and pepper and a little vinegar. This was served in a tortilla with some cheddar, and rather scrumptious it was too.
Today, as it is raining so much, I’m going to bake some galette, put a potato in the ash to bake and also cook some cheese and tattie scones on hot rocks. I might also bake some peanut butter cookies if I have time and it keeps raining.
It is surprising how long I can make my supplies last; the more wild food I gather, the longer this time is too. It would be exceptionally difficult, if not impossible, to find all the sustenance I need from nature. The reason for this is simply the legal side of things; people frown upon poaching, and hunting with primitive tools and weapons is illegal too. Sometimes though the deer do start to look rather appetising… (On this subject, last night at about ten o’clock, I heard a rifle shot about a mile away, I’m guessing someone was using the brightness of the moon to bag a deer, I also imagine they weren’t exactly doing it legally at that time.)
The next of the four is shelter. I have detailed this previously, needless to say it is proving all the hard work was worth it. In the cold it is warm, it cuts out the wind and sheds the rain – and I’ve yet to put the finishing touches to it. I’ve progressed to thatching with a thick layer of dead and dying bracken; this sticks to the heather layer like Velcro and by putting it stalk upwards leaves down, it naturally allows water to run off the walls. The next layer will be leaves and other forest floor debris before a final thick covering of moss, peeled from the ground, rocks and trees. Once this is done I can concentrate on the inside. I have already built a frame for my bed, and laced the webbing I use to hang my hammock between the top two logs of the frame. This raises me off the damp, cold ground and also supports the Thermarest admirably. I will fill this gap with heather; to all intents and purposes a warm, cosy mattress or nest if you will.
I also found a length of piping on the beach and intend to run this underground from the fire pit to under the bed frame – essentially a hypocaust.
Finally, and last but certainly not least, we have fire. This essential takes rather a lot of work. Keeping with the theme of numbers, it is said that firewood keeps you warm three times over; collecting it, processing it, and the actual burning. As there is so much dead wood around me nearly all my firewood at present is oak.
I always carry my folding saw with me in my pocket and have made a habit of always returning with firewood whenever I leave the shelter, whether to check my phone, collect water or go out to take some photographs. This way I have a constant supply and never have to worry about running low.
Of course lighting a fire can be a challenge up here. When it has been raining for days it takes some effort and no small amount of skill to get it going. I always ensure I have several logs on the fire before I go to bed; taking them away from the centre of the fireplace and making sure any rain will not dampen the underneath. This way, in the morning, it is so much easier and quicker to get a good, hot blaze going, without the need to split wood or carve feathersticks.
Charcoal lights quickly, and it is entirely possible to get the logs I have just mentioned burning once more with a single, well placed, spark from my flint.
I never begrudge the work it take, or the times the shelter fills with smoke (as it did a few days ago every time there was a hailstorm or snow shower); it is not only crucial to my continued survival out here, but also brightens and lifts the spirit. And you have no idea how often I find myself simply paused, sat watching the flames. It is called the bush TV for good reason, it is highly addictive.
I have already talked about cooking; a well tended fire can perform many tasks associated with this. For example, I have several flat rocks on one side, to use either to cook on directly or for resting pans on when baking. My billy can is suspended above, a length of chain with a hook links to a doubled up piece of paracord, tied together at regular intervals so I can drop the billy down, or raise it as and when this is needed. I also find that by leaving the billy above the fire, it protects it from rain to a certain degree; very useful in its embryonic stages early in the morning, when one fat droplet could easily put out the fledgling fire.
I also keep a thick pile of wood ash to one side of the fireplace; this is useful for banking the fire when I leave the shelter, cutting down on oxygen (again, the numbers – the fire triangle requires three things to keep it going; oxygen, fuel and heat – take away one of these and it goes out) and allowing me to be away for some hours if needed. The ash is also useful in cooking; I can bake ashcakes directly in it, heap it over shellfish placed on the rocks I mentioned; when it is hot it will cook these quickly, and I can also bake potatoes or apples, for example, directly in the ash.
The next fire based project will be an oven. I have gathered several potential rocks and have a mound of clay subsoil to fill the gaps. This idea is quite exciting – I have only ever made an oven once before, so I am hoping it works.
The fire lay I use principally is a star fire. This requires between three to five (or more) leg thick logs, arranged so their ends meet in the middle. When the fire is not needed for cooking or light I can either cover the ends with ash, as mentioned, or move them apart some way. Placed together without any smaller fuel they will also smoulder away for hours with little or no tending. I generally use three to four foot lengths of oak – that way it saves energy sawing and replacing burnt logs. It also means that I can adjust the fire lay quickly and easily to the other one I have used; a parallel log fire. By placing several logs alongside and atop each other a tremendous amount of heat is given off. This is the fire of the northern wilderness, employed across Canada, Scandinavia and Siberia.
I had intended this piece to progress to one or two other things I wish to mention and discuss but it is already long enough, so I will leave this here and save these for the next instalment.